Private Promised Guns (Mandalorian Covenant)

[Rann Deshra]

Prixa toggled her comlink to the channel she shared with Mig Gred , "I'm going to manually fly this one out...assuming we don't have any more difficulties-"

But Rann butted in.

"We should conduct a scan to make sure there aren't any uncounted for survivors. If we leave anyone, and word gets back to their employers or friends, we might have some future complications....Mig was it, you seem to have some sort of magic Force powers...do you sense anything out there that the scanners might not see?"

 

[Mig Gred]

Mig listened carefully, taking a breath as Prixa explained the situation on the other freighter, and Rann gave his worries about survivors being left behind. He then suggested the Force trained Mandalorian us "Magic Force powers" to sense if anyone was still there. Mig couldn't keep back a slight chuckle as he spoke.

"I do have the Force, but I've never been good at sensing more than other Force users. I doubt any survivors will be too much trouble though. If they're smart they won't come after us." All of a sudden there was a string of whistles, and Mig nodded while Leddie flipped a few flight switches. "If it makes you feel better, we can jump to these coordinates first. Got white wolf that could keep us safe from there."

Rann Deshra

 

[Rann Deshra]

Rann's mind was spinning. He was just enough mentally coherent to know that he shouldn't probably be making important decisions. Deshra knew he couldn't trust himself to make another decision in a few minutes. He turned his head to Prixa and waggled his hands - one of their silent signs that told her he was in over of his head. She would have to 'drive', so to speak, for at least a little bit.

The woman shook her head silently before coming back on the comms with Mig Gred , "We will take you on that offer. It never hurts to be as safe as you can in this business, I think, though my alor might disagree."

"Whatever you think is best."

"We'll lift off and follow you when ready."

 

[Mig Gred]

Mig chuckled, pulling off his helmet.

"Should be ready here. Let's go. You guys will also get to meet an... interesting member of my clan." Mig smirked a bit, not sure how they'd react to the A.I. aboard Concordia, but it would be fun. He then looked over at Leddie as the bulk freighter began to take off.

"You good, Ledd'ika?" The Zabrak looked over.

"Yeah. Just... I messed up with that one guy." Mig sighed a little, smiling a bit.

"You're alive. And anyone could've been caught off guard like that. Even the strongest Jedi." He gave her shoulder a pat before walking towards the cargo bay. Someone needed to check how much they picked up, and Mig figured his daughter would want some time to think.

Rann Deshra

 

[Rann Deshra]

"We'll be lifting off then," said Prixa to Mig Gred , flipping the final switch, "and we'll follow you out of here."

After cutting the comms, she pulled back on the freighter's yoke, causing the hull to briefly creak and groan as the ship's repulsorlifts whirled to life. Ugh, slower than a bantha on a treadmill...He rolled his head over to look back into the access corridor. Prixa saw him look over and promptly hit a button on the console - the door to the bridge slid shut before a pair of audible clicking sounds announced that the bridge was locked. Their freighter started to lift off, leaving the battleground and some of their dead enemies behind.

Still, the mandalorian didn't feel secure, between his withdrawal symptoms and the fact that he was with a single friendly person on a ship full of weapons with some potential enemies still onboard. He pushed off with his feet, spinning the chair backwards to face the door and kept his carbine at the ready.

"You're getting paranoid."

"The last thing we need some aru'e busting down the door and gunning us down with no help nearby. I wouldn't even feel safe right now if you were a jetii."

"Got something better than that you for you," she said softly, taking a small gray capsule out of her armor.

"What's that?"

"Just enough to get you through till we get back home," said the woman, tossing the container at him.

"Ori'vor'e!"